


Whistle While You Get Dressed

by Oakentide



Category: South Park
Genre: Anxiety, Blistering Political Commentary, Digital Art, Disney Parody, Established Relationship, Fanart, Fluff and Humor, G-Gnomes, High School, M/M, Prom, Unwanted Randy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29264175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakentide/pseuds/Oakentide
Summary: Tweek Tweak is struggling to get ready for his Senior Prom while his date waits for him downstairs. Luckily for him, some mythical creatures appear wanting to help him out, with smiles on their faces and songs in their hearts.Of course, it's South Park, so...
Relationships: Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: jan 2021 - sp creek server does gnomes





	Whistle While You Get Dressed

**Author's Note:**

> This story includes the wonderful art of @sinchistesp. I had a lot of fun collaborating with them!

Tweek groaned, pulling on his hair a little in between glances at himself in the mirror.

 _What order do I put on clothes again?_ Why was that hard?

Underwear first seemed obvious, but was it _too_ obvious?

He couldn’t breathe. Craig had been _waiting_ for Tweek, out in the living room, for maybe twenty minutes, at least. _He was gonna be late for prom._ And Craig was waiting for him.

 _They_ were gonna be late for prom. And Tweek had promised not to hold them up.

Tweek took a deep breath, and held it in for a count of eight.

 _Exhale slowly._ _Just do the easy part._

He could do this.

He opened one of his drawers, and took out a clean pair of tighty whiteys.

Tweek had just put one leg through when he jumped at his own reflection, again.

_That spot on his leg looked kind of suspicious._

Fuck! He couldn’t go to prom if he had _skin cancer_.

Gotta check just to be sure.

He started with his other leg. When Tweek was happy that there were no new, suspicious lumps on it, he put it through his underwear.

Tweek was checking his chest when he heard quiet humming, slowly getting louder, from his closet.

_“Yummy tummy tum, yum tum yum_

_Yum tum yummy tum day_

_Yum tum tum yummy tum tummy yum_

_Yum tum yummy tum day”_

He couldn’t really hear it properly, and didn’t pay it any mind. It wasn’t even the first hallucination he’d heard since getting out of the shower.

It was when he was checking his back against the mirror, inch by inch, that he was startled by his closet door opening in the reflection.

Five tiny gnomes trotted out. Long beards, blue pants. Pointy hats, each of a different colour.

Tweek had seen these little fuckers before. He was ready to stomp them if necessary, and took a deft step towards them, his foot barely lifting above the carpet but looking very threatening to a gnome.

“Back off! This is the **one** thing I managed to do after getting out of the shower, and you _can’t_ take it away from me!”

They all stopped in their tracks. The one in a yellow hat spoke, carefully.

“What do you mean, kid?”

“I’ve seen you! I _remember_ you! You take my **fucking** underwear.” Tweek spat at them.

“I don’t even know if I have any clean pairs, man. Just go away.”

“We don’t do that all the time! Sometimes for special occasions we’ll help you humans out.”

Tweek looked at this other one warily. The one that just spoke had a green hat.

“...Bullshit.”

“No, no, it’s just like that one Christmas! Don’t you ‘member?”

“ _What_? Everyone knows it’s elves that help out with Christmas...”

“Look, it’s really simple. Tinks?” They nodded to the one in the red hat, who quickly scampered over to Tweek’s closet, and dragged an easel out from it, seemingly from out of nowhere really. It was draped with a silk cloth.

Tweek never remembered putting any of this in his closet, but when the gnome turned the page over he unconsciously nodded, as things began to come back to him.

** Phase 1: Collect underpants **

** Phase 2: ? **

** Phase 3: Profit **

‘Tinks’ was holding a pointer against Phase 2, tapping the easel. Tweek, of course, was still less than convinced.

“Why!? Why would that make sense? How does helping me fit into my suit make anyone money from underwear?”

The gnomes awkwardly looked at each other, and Tinks continued tapping onto Phase 2 for emphasis, before finally moving on to the next item.

"...And Phase 3 is Profit!”

The gnomes started humming again, scattering and scurrying through what looked like an infinite space that stretched out beyond the darkness of the back of his closet.

No.

They’d started _singing_ – or, Tweek could understand what the words were this time.

_“Time to go to work, work all night_

_Yum tum yummy tum day_

_We won't stop until we have Tweek Tweak_

_Look real pretty and gay”_

_How did they know my name!?_ He never wrote that on his underwear...

He stepped back, feeling very tense, and almost leapt a foot into the air when he backed into his dresser, knocking something over. He whirled around, quickly rearranging his stuff, and then turned around to see the gnomes crossing the floor of his living room.

Two were holding a dress shoe each, with socks stuffed into the heels. One was straining to carry a bag, the contents of which tinkled as it moved. One was carrying a pocket watch, the right size for a human, and had cufflinks slung around their neck. Last was the poor bastard dragging a suit dust cover by the hook of the coat hanger. They started panting as soon as they’d taken it far enough to set it down.

“Thanks for the help, assholes!”

“Fuck up, Sunder!”

The gnomes bickered among themselves, almost in time with what they were singing.

“Hey! Lift up your toes, dumbass!”

Tweek looked down at his feet and saw two gnomes holding the opening of a sock against his right foot, and obliged before questioning what was happening.

He lifted his other foot, then lowered it a little after being called a “tallist douchebag”, and ended up with two socks on.

In retrospect, doing the socks first was the only sensible thing to happen tonight.

Tweek turned to face the sound of scissors being tested as soon as he heard it, the gnome in a yellow hat now admiring the sheen of the blade in the light. Tweek realised he was sweating a little as he gulped.

“What are you.... _doing_ with those scissors?”

“I’m not doing _shit_ until we fix up your moisture balance. Surge, stop looking for a good foundation and help me get this on top of his head.” They said this while indicating to the gnome with a green hat, who was going through Tweek’s makeup.

“He has like _six..._ and _none_ of them are good for his skin tone! Why would he-“

“We _know_! Come here.”

The two gnomes struggled with an industrial-sized tube of Keratinoil, nearly dropping it when they’d reached the summit of Tweek’s head.

“Do you guys want me to-“

“Can it! If we thought you wouldn’t fuck up holding a tube of hair product we’d have _asked_. Just stand fucking still! Like Gloan down there! We can’t have you looking like straw stuck to a pole for all the people...”

Well, Tweek didn’t want that either... so he decided he was waiting while the two of them massaged moisturiser into his hair and scalp.

“Mae, you’re a little high-strung over this. His hair can _definitely_ be salvaged.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Surge. Tweek’s skin isn’t anything like this _disaster_.”

Tweek frowned into the mirror. What was wrong with his hair?

He tried to make the most of the scalp massage. They really were quite soothing, but his mind still needed to be occupied.

Making sure not to tilt his head, Tweek tried to see what the others were doing. The gnome who’d taken a whole suit out of the closet was pulling out a pair of suit pants on his own while the one in a purple hat looked on. Dress pants, very nice cut. A seaweed green, like a darker version of the shirts Tweek always liked to wear.

Both of these gnomes were singing to the last gnome, who hadn’t moved from attending to his watch for a few minutes. Once they started to repeat themselves, the ones on Tweek’s head joined in.

_Time to go to work, work all night_

_Shine a stupid watch, hey_

_Tinks won’t stop, but Tweek has a phone_

_Yum tum yummy tum day_

“Piss off! People still wear pocket watches! And you can’t even put his pants on unless Tweek sits on his bed, _away_ from the mirror. Which fucks Mae _and_ Surge. So you might as well wait, too.”

“.... I don’t need a mirror to do his makeup, it’s okay... plus we’re a little busy with the hair...”

“Surge, your problem is you’re not _assertive_ enough. Hey, pineapple! Shit-for-brains! Get on the fucking bed!”

Tweek wasn’t super into these nicknames, but left it at gritting his teeth, deciding for now to just keep everything moving forward. As Tweek stepped over to his bed, making sure not to accidentally step on any of these insolent motherfuckers, he wondered at what point he’d stopped planning to do just that.

On purpose.

He kicked his feet out, but not so high that the gnomes couldn’t reach him.

...Sunder? And... Gloan? Grabbed a side of the pants each and moved them around his legs, with Tweek shaking his legs to assist. When he had to stand up off the bed a little so they could hike his pants, he only felt the pulling on one side.

Tweek looked down at the two gnomes, who’d hopped up onto his bed. Gloan had frozen up, and was panting, and counting to himself. Tweek was trying to figure out what he should do about this when Sunder slammed a tiny little baseball bat into the back of their head, knocking them to the ground.

“There! Snap out of it! Don’t tell me you gotta remind yourself how to fucking _breathe_ , Gloan. It’s _easy_. You have been doing it since you crawled out of your mom. Get up.”

This was bugging Tweek, but Gloan did just get up like nothing happened, so he said nothing, just watched as they went back to their positions and pulled his pants the rest of the way, putting them on properly.

After this, Gloan sat on the bed, panting again and counting, as Sunder continued, walking across Tweek back to the dust cover.

“Great, Gloan. Good work. We got the pants on. Now you’re all good to go attack some panic or whatever in the corner. Just fuck off and be useless over there.”

Gloan flipped Sunder off, standing his ground and retorting between deep breaths. "How about... you learn... to swing... a fucking _bat_?"

There was more yelling amongst the gnomes, and Tweek found himself caught up in it as he grabbed Sunder by the scruff of his neck between his fingers.

“That’s called a _panic attack_ , idiot. It’s... why can’t you be considerate?”

He felt the movement on his head stop. Even Tinks had stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder to Tweek, to see what he’d do next.

Tweek held Sunder out at arm’s length, letting them slide out of his fingers for a fraction of a second. They were not pleased.

“Put me down you fucking psycho! You had a whole song about this!”

Tweek heard the next voice from behind his ear.

“Sunder, we’re gnomes. You won’t even _feel_ a drop from a few feet up.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t know that! He wants to kill me!”

Tweek piped up, now.

“Oh, sorry, we’re _caring_ about other people now? You’re a fucking asshole Sunder. _There_ ,” he said as he lowered Sunder, dropping him from only a few inches above the ground.

He leaned over to the dust cover, snatched his own belt and began angrily threading it through his dress pants. He had clipped it on properly before he realised what he was doing, and he looked around sheepishly to all the gnomes, who all looked a little annoyed, including the ones who were sticking up for Gloan just before.

This _was_ their rodeo, after all...

Did Tweek have to take his belt off again now, so that the gnomes could put it on for him?

Tinks cut into the awkward silence.

“You know, nobody makes pocket watches as nice as this anymore. Except me, _obviously_.”

“Yeah, because everyone has a phone! Didn’t you hear _our_ song?”

“Go fuck yourself. Shove a fucking rod right up your _stupid_ ass. Or we can get Tweek to throw you out the _window_. From a second-storey window, I calculate the chance of that being lethal to be...”

Tweek tuned this out, sighing as he lay back down on the bed, keeping his chin against his chest – he didn’t want to mess with the gnomes doing his hair. He realised that this was going to be business as usual until he was ready for prom.

“Honey?”

 _Shit._ Tweek jolted, then got a little scared that he’d just knocked his gnomes over, and looked towards the door to reply.

“Yeah, Craig?”

Every gnome called out the same thing. “Shit!”

From Tweek’s peripheral vision, he noticed all the gnomes panic and rush into nearby hiding places.

“Everything okay in there? Who are you talking to?”

“Oh, nobody, it’s okay!”

Things were not okay. But worse, he might have lost his gnomes.

“Okay sweetie, just let me know if you need any help getting ready.”

“Will do! I’m nearly done!”

He was _not_ nearly done. But that was apparently enough for the gnomes to come back out of their hiding places, with another song to sing.

_Time to go to work, work all night_

_Get Tweek ready, okay_

_We won’t stop until he’s dapper and fine_

_Yum tum yummy tum day_

Tweek just closed his eyes and let the gnomes do their thing for now.

~ CRAIG ~

As he walked away from his boyfriend’s bedroom door, Craig could still hear Tweek, rambling from his room, but he decided that this wasn’t enough to worry about. He sat down on his lounge chair and relaxed.

It didn’t matter to him that it was late. The pre-party was going to be a bust, mostly because nobody wanted to be too drunk before heading to a school function. Thing is, it also wasn’t really his place to go and assure his boyfriend that their efforts and strains to not waste time were something Craig didn’t care about. He totally did.

Instead of trying to find the right balance, for now, he was just enjoying spending some time with his guinea pig. This week it was Tweek’s turn to keep Stripe, and Craig hadn’t seen his little buddy since the last time he’d come over here.

Stripe was chasing around some scrunched up paper that was being dragged around the room by a gnome. Another gnome was hard at work building a new hamster wheel, and two more were lining a new wooden fort they’d just built with some straw. He might get to see Stripe run around in that in a few minutes.

These things had followed Craig to Tweek’s house, and he hadn’t really noticed them before tonight, but they were fast, industrious workers. He was sure he hadn’t noticed any of them helping anyone else, before tonight, either. The last time he’d heard of them was a very long time ago, when there was a rumour that Tweek was giving away his underwear to mythical creatures in exchange for special coffee.

It wasn’t really that weird for South Park, at the time, so he’d almost forgotten.

He got to watch Stripe have fun without getting up and playing with them himself, which was a nice relief from the fuss and well-intended screaming that he dealt with getting ready for prom back at his house. Their ride was waiting, and had been for quite a while, but as far as Craig was concerned, he was just grateful for this moment.

~ TWEEK ~

He was straining, looking into his reflection. It felt like Tweek had been holding his face still for an eternity when he got the signal that he could move again. He knew it had to have just been a few minutes, but his nose _itched_ , dammit.

Surge was on his shoulder, stretching out from there to reach him with a _very_ small brush. At least this work wasn’t wanting for precision.

“There! I had to go all the way back to our hideout to find it, but _that’s_ the foundation you want. And I’ve just got a little bit of eyeliner for you...”

Once this was done, and Tweek could blink freely again, Surge hopped down from his position on Tweek’s shoulder to admire his handiwork.

“And as for lipstick...”

“ _No_ lipstick. No _thank you_ , Surge.”

Tweek smiled into the mirror.

“What was the foundation you used? I think I might get some.”

“Oh, you can keep it. Your skin is fucking weird, Tweek. So I won’t need it for any of the other humans.”

...Okay, then. Tweek was happy with his hair, too. It still looked a little messy, but he didn’t have any split ends anymore, and it looked thicker. Was it thicker?

He wouldn’t put it past Mae to have some magical hair product just for that, but they told him it was just a good mousse that he could get at any hair salon. They’d put his dress shirt on – a plain white button-up with thin Merino wool. Tinks was attaching his cufflinks, and was also trying to make some small talk.

“You know, I keep meaning to have a word about this with the mining supervisors back at our hideout...”

“Mmhmm...”

Tinks was taking his time doing up Tweek’s cufflinks – sterling silver, with two musical quavers as the design. Tweek found it to be really pretty, but he was searching with his eyes for a way to get out of the conversation.

“... the thing is, nobody in this town has the _skin_ for anything but silver...”

Mae and Gloan were fixing the knot on his tie – black, knitted. Sunder and Surge were using a dust brusher on his blazer, which was a deep emerald colour.

“...But we mine just as much gold! Why?”

“Yeah, I don’t know... hey, the blazer is ready.” It wasn’t, but Tweek was sick of this.

“Shit! Okay, just a second-“ Tinks quickly replied as he blew on the second cufflink one last time. When he turned the inside notch to keep it in place, he slid down Tweek’s side to reach the others on the ground.

Soon, the blazer was on, with Tweek having to give a little help by sitting on the bed – but Tweek needed to be standing to get his blazer done up.

The gnomes were stacked, with Sunder and Tinks at the bottom, Surge and Mae on their shoulders, and Gloan on top of them, currently fucking up his buttons.

The bottom hole on his blazer was in the top hole, making a curve of the excess fabric stick out and lifting the bottom up to show his belt on his left side. Tweek looked in the mirror and sighed. You don’t even _do_ the bottom button.

It looked like an exaggeration of how he used to do his shirt, and he was cringing very deeply. The buttons were mahogany, with a beautiful texture, which made this look even more ridiculous.

“Lining these buttons up is giving me real trouble. Sorry, everyone...”

“It’s okay, Gloan, I like the look! And I think it suits Tweek pretty well.”

Surge was having none of it. “Speak for yourself, Mae! Let’s change positions and let someone else do that button.”

The gnomes arguing in the middle were drowned out by Sunder’s voice, booming from the bottom.

“Yeah! We don’t want the humans to think his gnomes did a shitty job. This outfit... is a matter of **_pride!_** ”

Everyone noticed that was a really weird turn of phrase, but it was Mae who got the first words in.

“Where did that come from?”

“I.... don’t know...”

Surge got them back on track.

“You could get away with that on a shirt but a blazer only has so many buttons. We should expect a _higher standard_ of Tweek’s gnomes.”

Again, they said that. “... _my_.... gnomes...?”

Was he going to have to work with these guys again? And...

“I look okay, right? It’s just the button that’s the problem?”

“You know, I calculate that even with the button askew, you’d still be in the top ten of the cutest boys at the prom.”

Tinks pushed a pair of glasses further up on his nose for emphasis, which he’d just gotten out of his pocket, and then quickly discarded them before continuing.

“Having said that, if we fixed it, you’d be among the top _five_ of boys who anyone cares about.”

Gloan let go of the button to look down at Tinks.

“Wouldn’t that be about the same?”

Sunder cleared his throat, before emphatically giving his piece, again. “Everybody shut up. We have to sort these buttons, but Tweek, you look _fantastic_. Don’t even worry about it.”

Tweek felt confident about his look again, giving himself a once over into the mirror as the gnome continued.

“Good enough that you’re _wasted_ on that loser downstairs... you know, sumo wrestling isn’t _real_ , right?”

Tweek raised an eyebrow. Okay, it was getting a little weird, now...

“Sunder... I think you’ve got your wrestling confused.” Surge replied.

“Look, I’m just saying that _boxing_ is a nobler art form. Tweek here is a _great_ boxer. He could have anyone he wanted.”

Tweek took a small, uneasy step back from the gnome pyramid.

“I’m... a little uncomfortable that you remembered that. _No one_ remembers _that_ far back...”

Sunder puffed his chest out as he replied. “Well, a good gnome has to do his research!”

Rattling off from a notepad that he’d just produced, Tinks cut in, “You know, we have helped twenty humans this week and you have remembered the past physical altercations and _discographies_ of exactly _zero_ of them, Sunder.”

“I’ll... okay. You got me..."

_Time to go to work, work all night_

_Sunder’s digging a hole_

_He won’t stop until Tweek Tweak finds_

_Sunder’s body pill-ow, hey ho!_

Sunder didn’t even try to argue, just waited until the others were bored of this song.

“...Let’s just... make a line. Everyone on me.”

Instead of a pyramid, the gnomes now made a vertical stack, with Sunder straining to hold everyone up from the bottom. As Sunder stared at the ground, trying not to let on that this wasn’t easy, Surge took the top button out of the bottom hole. They passed it to Gloan, who put it in the top hole.

Once the top button was done, the gnomes collapsed their stack. Sunder helped the others line Tweek’s shoes up. Mae did some last touch-ups on Tweek’s makeup, which the various commotions had marred a little.

Surge tied the look together with a pocket square. Tweek really liked the autumn orange, but what he loved was that all of this stupid shit was finally behind him. Gloan seemed pleased with himself too, stopping to talk to Tweek while everyone else was packing away their stuff.

“Ok, you’re all set! That’s it from us!”

“....Thank you. And remember; don’t be afraid to tell people when you’re feeling too much pressure.”

“You know, barometric conditions don’t noticeably change on a-“

“Anyone but Tinks.”

With everything packed up, the gnomes started lugging it all back into the gaping abyss at the back of Tweek’s closet. From the distance, he could still hear their voices.

“So is anyone gonna tell Tweek that Sunder is kind of into feet?”

A sweat drop formed on Tweek’s brow.

“....What...?”

“Shut up!”

“Hah! I’m just fucking with you, kid! See you around!”

~ CRAIG AND TWEEK ~

“Okay, I’m ready!”

On hearing Tweek’s voice call out from his bedroom, Craig still hadn’t moved from his chair, but when the gnomes immediately dropped everything to go hide, Craig sighed and leaned down to pick up Stripe, giving him a little cuddle.

Tweek walked down the stairs, and Craig gasped at how _stunning_ Tweek looked.

“You look... really nice tonight, Tweek.”

“Thank you. It was such a fucking mess getting ready. And I wasted a lot of time.”

“But it turned out okay! I’m really happy with how the look came together.”

Tweek wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Right behind you.”

Craig got up, but waited until Tweek had closed the door, then called out,

“Hey! Come out! He’s-“

He stopped when he noticed the front door opening again. Tweek poked his head back into the living room.

“Who are you talking to, Craig?”

“N-no one, sweetie. I’ll see you in the car! Just give me a second to put Stripe back in his cage.”

Tweek said nothing, just nodding as he moved back out, closing the door behind him.

Craig whistled, and the gnomes came back out of hiding. He barked at the first one he saw.

“Hey, gnome! Get over here!” It was pissed when it replied.

“Ayy! Don’t talk to me like that! Address me as-“

“Eat a dick. I didn’t even know gnomes _had_ names. I don’t want to learn yours. Come get Stripe.”

The gnome glared at him as it motioned for its crew to bring out a box shaped wooden litter, blue and patterned with stars. They placed it on the ground, and one of the gnomes motioned for Stripe to go inside through an opening at the back.

Stripe looked very comfortable as his head poked out.

Not thinking the setup was complete,yet, the gnome leading the group ran to their supply chest, rummaged through it for a few seconds, and then took out a tiny crown.

It floated a little as it was placed on Stripe.

“Okay, ready, guys!”

The other four gnomes squatted down, heaving as they lifted the litter, and started towards the basement, where Stripe’s cage was.

Craig was impressed, but needed to keep the vibe he had going. Which, right now, was cutting into their song-

_Time to go to work, work all night_

_Take our Prince downstairs_

_We won’t stop until he’s tucked into bed_

_Yum tum yummy tum da-_

“I didn’t _ask_ you morons to sing. Do that on your own time.”

“Go fuck yourself, kid!”

Craig walked backwards towards the front door, flipping the gnomes off with both hands, only stopping to use one hand to open the door.

The one leading the litter out returned the favour, as best as Craig could tell from the doorway, all the way until they descended down the stairs.

After closing and locking his front door, Craig happily trotted to join his boyfriend.

When he got into the car, Tweek was making an effort to have some conversation with their driver, which Craig would not have considered worth it, personally.

“Thanks for chauffeuring us, Mr Marsh. I’m sorry that we were a... little late”

Craig snorted, earning him a glare from Tweek, which left Craig feeling suitably chastised. If he didn’t care, he should show that, too.

“Oh, it’s fine. I was happy to give a ride to _everyone_ tonight, and you guys were just last. Everyone else is already there! And Stan made me promise I wouldn’t go _anywhere near the prom_. _Despite_ the school board _insisting_ that I help chaperone the students. So this is the compromise.”

He looked at the clock on his car, and sighed with satisfaction, as though he’d just managed to do something difficult.

“...Besides, it’s not like I’d be _watching_ football tonight.”

Tweek looked a little lost as Craig replied.

“Why not? My Dad was making a big deal about that too.”

Randy simply started the car, and then once they were driving, he continued to stay quiet for a minute, gripping the wheel tight enough for his knuckles to go a little white. He was clearly trying to seem measured when he gave his answer.

“... Football is for _giant douches_ this year. There’s one really big turd sandwich now at the end but it’s been giant douches all year.”

“And you boys can think what you like, but this is a _turd sandwich_ car. And it always will be!”

Tweek and Craig shared a glance, not sure where to take the chat from this point. After a few minutes of silent driving, Tweek whispered to Craig.

“So who were you flipping off with both hands as you were leaving the house?”

“Oh, no one, sweetie. Don’t worry.”

Craig laced his hand into Tweek’s, at last noticing Tweek’s nails, which had been painted a pale lime green.

Craig smiled, looking at them, but Tweek seemed genuinely shocked.

“Who painted...?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just enjoy the night.”


End file.
